Tech Support

Tech Support

“Good lord, how do they expect me to do this myself?”

Stuart’s brow furrowed as he flipped between the pages of what appeared to be an instruction manual, growing increasingly irritated with every turn of the page. Its cover reading “Wireless Router Setup Instructions”, the man in his fifties skimmed through the nearly quarter-inch thick booklet while occasionally glancing over at his phone sitting off to the side. A monotonous sounding song played on a loop but every now and then the music would be abruptly interrupted by an automated message.

“Your call is very important to us, please stay on the line and one of our representatives will be with you shortly.”

Tapping the phone’s screen, Stuart realized that he’d been on hold for nearly half an hour. Letting out an exacerbated sigh, his patience was beginning to wear thin. He fiddled with whatever he could find laying on his desk trying to pass the time. A set of picture frames featuring his family caught his attention. Stuart stared at them for a while before lingering on one of himself.

More time went by and he still remained on hold. The man tried to keep himself calm by thinking about why he was doing this in the first place.

His job had given him the option of working from home. Stuart was an old school guy by nature, set in his ways, so he was initially reluctant to such a drastic change to his lifestyle. He was content with the way things were, but prodding by his teenaged kids and the promise of a raise if he were to take the new position were incentive enough to at least give it a try.

The only issue and the reason why he was on hold in the first place was that he needed to install a new router as his job required him to have a more secure internet connection. 

Stuart thought himself technologically savvy for his age, but that soon proved to be untrue the moment he first cracked open the manual. To him, it was as if it was written in another language. It didn’t take long for Stuart to admit that he was way in over his head so he dialed the number for customer support for some much needed assistance.

After waiting for several more minutes, the music that played suddenly cut and instead of an automated voice, what seemed like a real person started speaking.

“Hello, I apologize for the wait. My name is Jeremy, how can I assist you today?”

A man’s voice spoke from the other side of the line. Stuart quickly moved to pick up the phone.

“Uh, hey there Jeremy. Nice to meet ya.” 

Stuart proceeded to fill in Jeremy on his situation, telling him how he needed to set up a new router for his job but was finding the installation process a bit out of his breadth. 

“I’ll be more than happy to assist you with that, sir.” Jeremy spoke in a youthful, cheery tone. “Looks like you purchased one of our newest models.”

“Yeah. Got it for my job. I’m tryin’ out this work from home thing.” Stuart responded. “Everyone I’ve talked to seems to recommend it.”

“Well once you start you’re not going to want to go back." Jeremy said. "And I say that from experience.”

“That’s good to know. Thank you, son.” Stuart replied back.

“Ok, so to start you off we’re going to have you create an account with us.”

Jeremy proceeded to ramble on all the steps Stuart would have to take in order to complete the installation process. Most of it seemed to line up with some of the things he had read on the manual but Stuart was just happy to have someone guide him along.

Nearly thirty minutes passed until Stuart realized they were arriving towards the last few pages. Jeremy had instructed Stuart to connect all sorts of cables to the router, pressing whichever buttons, and having Stuart relay to him everything he did.

“Just a few more steps and then we’re done.” Jeremy reassured Stuart who was just happy to almost be done with it all.

“Well I sure do appreciate all your assistance. You’ve been a huge help so far.”

“No worries, sir. It’s literally my job.” Jeremy let out a small chuckle.

“Yeah, I don’t think my kids could have helped me with this. They’re good with technology and computers but this all seems like it’s on another level.” Stuart admitted. “You got any children yourself?”

The line stayed silent for a split second, as if Jeremy wasn’t expecting to be on the receiving end of a personal question.

“Uh, no sir. Unless you count my cats. I refer to them as my furbabies.” Jeremy chuckled to himself once more, this time being joined by a boisterous laugh from Stuart. “But maybe sometime down the line.”

“Well you sound young so you still got time. But you don’t wanna be like me who waited till their mid-thirties to start having them. I just turned fifty-two and I barely got the energy to keep up. They got me runnin’ all over the damn place. Whether it’s driving them to sports practice or dealing with all that teenage angst. I know I shouldn’t say it but sometimes I feel like I need a break from it all.”

“I appreciate the advice.” Jeremy tried to cut Stuart off before the man started going off in another tangent. “Let’s finish off these last few steps.”

A little while later Jeremy and Stuart seemed to be nearing the end of the process.

“Alright, everything seems done for the most part. Let me just sort everything out on my side and that should be it. I’ll go ahead and do that right now.”

A few seconds passed before Jeremy started talking again. “Ok Stuart, can you tell me if a green light is flashing on the router?”

Stuart did as he was instructed. “Unless I’ve suddenly gone colorblind, I only see a red light.”

“Huh.. ok.” Jeremy sounded dumbfounded on the line as Stuart moved to get a closer look at the router, taking off his glasses and putting them aside. “Let me see if I can troubleshoot this, hold on for just a moment.” Jeremy went silent again.

“You know Jeremy, I may be an old fart but even I know that the solution can sometimes be as simple as turning it on and off. You don’t need a tech degree to know that.” Stuart proceeded to look for the power button.

“Wait, don’t do that!” Jeremy immediately spoke up. “I’ve reset the connection. Turning it on and off can cause the circuit to overload!”

Before Stuart even had a chance to process Jeremy’s words, he’d already gone ahead and pressed the power button on the router. As he touched it, a few sparks flew from it followed by a sudden jolt of electricity that coursed through his body, causing Stuart to fall backwards onto the floor and knocking him out for the time being. The line meanwhile stayed silent on the other side.

It wasn’t long before Stuart started coming back to his senses. He found himself slumped over on his desk, drool having pooled where his head was laying. His body felt numb but as soon as he moved a tingling sensation starting coursing from his head to his toes. The grogginess was yet to subside as Stuart looked around for his phone, thinking that Jeremy must be wondering what had happened. Something didn’t quite feel right however.

His desk and all the things that were on it were different. His work laptop was replaced by dual monitors. The picture frames he had of himself and his kids were gone. In their place was a lamp and an office phone with a headset right next to it. But most obvious of all, his large and heavy wooden desk was now a sleek and modern table. Stuart tried to rub his eyes only to be stopped by the thick frames of the glasses he’d been wearing.

The tingling sensation he’d been experiencing soon began to subside, allowing Stuart to finally start noticing some subtle details. Feeling a tickle under his nose, he reached to scratch it only to be met with the thick bristles of a mustache. Stuart had just trimmed his beard that very morning, so there was no way it had grown all bushy so quickly. Using his hand to feel the rest of his face, he’d discover that his beard was gone, sans the mustache, and that his face felt different. His jaw was sharp and checks were slender. His skin no longer coarse from years of sun exposure but smooth and tight. 

Finally giving the room he was in a good look, the realization that he was not in his home office anymore dawned on him. Stuart was in what appeared to be someone else’s apartment. The aesthetic was minimal, with furniture and decor few and far between. Whether by choice or not was hard to tell. A full length mirror stood on the other side of the room and when Stuart got up and approached it, he immediately realized what had happened.

“Well this ain’t right…”

Stuart spoke out loud as he examined himself in the mirror. 

“What on God’s green earth is going on?”

The pitch of his voice was much higher than he’d been used to but there was some familiarity to it. Stuart stared at the face looking back at him, running his hands through the messy, coal-black hair. As he was busy analyzing every feature of his new face, he felt something rub against his leg. A fluffy cream-colored cat looked up at him, meowing loudly. That's when it finally clicked.

“Jeremy?”

Stuart had somehow woken up in the body of the man he was on the call with. The shock from the router must have been the cause. How or why it happened was beyond him however.

Stuart paced around the rather empty apartment, trying to wrap his head around the situation. As he did so, he’d notice how much easier it was to move around. His joints didn’t crack as much and there was a bit more pep in his step. Stuart had longed for the days when he was as limber as he was now. While that should have been the least of his concerns, Stuart couldn't help but notice some features that came with the body he found himself in.

“This Jeremy fellow seems to take care of himself, that’s for sure.”

Stuart commented as he once again checked himself out in the mirror. He could feel the lean musculature of Jeremy's body through the shirt. Curiosity getting the better of him, he lifted up the shirt he was wearing revealing a set of abs and a v-line that lead down into his groin area.

"Uh, I should probably leave that alone."

Stuart awkwardly tucked the shirt back in. While he did sometimes yearn to be young again, this wasn't quite how he imagined it.

"I need to get a hold of Jeremy."

Before even getting the chance, a phone sitting on the desk started going off. Picking it up, he immediately noticed that it was a FaceTime call, recognizing the caller ID as his own. While hesitant to answer it at first, Stuart knew that only one person could be on the other side of the call.

"Uhm, hello? Is this Jeremy?"

A perplexed looking man bearing Stuart's very own appearance stared at him, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was a very uneasy feeling as the two men watched each other through the small screens of their phones. Neither knowing exactly what to say, they remained silent until the older man started talking.

"Yeah it's me, Jeremy."

Jeremy spoke using Stuart's midwestern twang, his voice now several octaves lower than what he was used to.

"Something happened when the router got overloaded. I don't know what it was but it caused us to switch places. Try not to panic, okay?"

"I'm as cool as a cucumber. Don't you worry about me, son."

While Stuart was definitely confused about their predicament, he managed to remain somewhat nonchalant about the whole ordeal. The fact that Stuart could only look at his new self on the screen as Jeremy spoke helped provide a nice distraction.

"I'll find a way to fix this and get us back to normal. I'm gonna need to make a call to my boss." Jeremy then paused for a moment, scratching his now graying beard. "This new model of routers.. there's more to it than what I've been told. Stay put, okay? Don't go anywhere! And don't do anything reckless!!"

"Whatever you say, buddy. I'll keep my butt planted on this desk of yours. I'm sure we'll get this sorted out." Stuart moved the phone around, giving Jeremy a good look at his work station.

With Jeremy leaving the call to get to the bottom of everything, Stuart was finally left to his own devices. Of course he wasn't going to galavant across town in this new body, he was a man of his word after all, but that didn't mean has wasn't going to enjoy this break away from his busy and mundane life. No kids. Few responsibilities. Young and spry body. Stuart would make every second of this new life count, at least until Jeremy found a way to switch them back.

Inside Man

Detective Robbie McKay laid on the gurney, surrounded by doctors and nurses who rushed him through the endless hospital hallways with a pace indicating urgency. His body throbbed with pain and each breath was more agonizing than the last. As the medication did its best to numb his discomfort, his mind floated in and out of consciousness with memories of a shootout flashing before his eyes. He could still hear the exchange of gunfire, see the bombardment of quick flashes, and feel the searing pain of a bullet tearing through his flesh.

Memories of the briefing earlier that day invaded his thoughts as well. He remembered sitting at this desk, surrounded by fellow officers, listening intently as Chief Ramirez laid out the plan to bust a notorious drug ring.

"An informant on the inside tells us that they're planning on moving a shipment of drugs, guns and other paraphernalia out of their warehouse tonight. That's why I'm gonna need all units on deck." Chief Ramirez spoke with authority as he went into the details, most of which were too hazy for Robbie to remember.

Robbie did remember being pulled aside by the Chief. "Thanks again for agreeing to come along McKay. I know you're in homicide but for a bust this big I'm going to need my best guys."

"As if saying no was even an option Chief. You know I'll follow you anywhere into battle." Robbie was as loyal as they'd come. Devoted to his job and to his boss, those last words echoed in Robbie's head as he soon faced the consequences of his undying commitment.

As Robbie drifted back to awareness, he caught snippets of conversation around him. Voices muffled by the haze of medication and trauma. But one voice cut through the fog—the commanding tone of Chief Ramirez.

"Do whatever you can to save him. We can't lose him." The Chief's voice demanded.

"But sir, he's lost a lot of blood. And the bullet pierced one of the lungs—"

"I don't care dammit!" Chief Ramirez slammed his fist against the wall, urgency dripping from every word. "Use the machine if you have to. You have my permission."

Robbie tried to focus, to make sense of the situation. Machine? They were speaking as if he was on the verge of death. Robbie had much more questions on his mind but he was soon hit with another wave fogginess. His eyelids grew heavy again, a sign that the meds were about to work their magic once more.

The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself in a sterile hospital room, monitors beeping softly in the background. He tried to move, but every inch of his body protested in agony.

"Ch-Chief?" Robbie tried to call out, his voice sounding off. "Nurse??" His throat felt dry but thankfully a glass of water sat on the table next to his bed. As Robbie feebly reached for the drink he noticed a drastic change that sent a jolt of panic down his spine.

His hands, once fair and calloused from years of police work, now bore a darker complexion, somewhat of a caramel color. And they were adorned with tattoos—symbols he didn't recognize inked into his skin.

He reached up to touch his head, expecting to feel the familiar buzz of his crew cut. But his fingers met smooth skin instead, his hair shaved down to the scalp. And when he brushed his hand against his face, he felt not the familiar stubble of his beard, but a neatly trimmed goatee framing his fuller lips.

"What's going on??!" Robbie screamed out, hoping for anyone to hear him. "What happened to me??" This time he could make out the distinct change in his voice. With these longer sentences he could make out an accent, one belonging to the people he'd occasionally arrest on the streets.

Fear surged through him as he struggled to make sense of the situation unfolding before him. He had been shot in the chest, he remembered that much. But everything else felt wrong—unnatural. This had to be dream, a nightmare even, but the constant pain he felt confirmed that this was indeed reality.

Summoning all his strength, Robbie pushed himself out of the bed, his muscles protesting with every movement. Clutching his midsection where the pain was the strongest, he stumbled toward the bathroom, desperate for answers.

When he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror, his heart nearly stopped. Staring back at him was not the face of Robbie McKay, decorated and revered detective from the LAPD, but that of a stranger—a Latino man with dark eyes and a stern expression.

Panic seized him, his mind reeling with disbelief. What had happened to him? How could this be real?

Robbie approached the mirror, getting a better look at his new self. The height disparity was one of the first things he noticed. Having been accustomed to towering over everything at 6'4'', he must now have been no taller than 5'7''. He also realized his tattoos not only stopped at his arms, but covered his chest, torso, and from what he could make out his back as well. Whatever skin wasn't covered by black ink was marred by scars.

Before he could make sense of it all, the hospital staff burst into the room, their voices a blur of confusion and concern. They moved quickly to sedate him, their hands gentle yet firm as they guided him back to the bed.

And then Chief Ramirez entered the room, his expression grave as he approached Robbie's bedside.

"I'm sorry, Robbie," the chief said, his voice heavy with regret. "You are one of our best and you were on the brink of death. So I had to make a difficult decision."

Robbie's heart pounded in his chest as he listened, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place.

"The procedure is experimental. Only the higher ups back in DC know of its existence. But I managed to pull a few strings in exchange for access to their machine." The chief coldly explained the situation.

"What did you to do me? Who is this man?" Robbie pleaded for answers, pointing at his face as he looked at the chief with frantic eyes.

"We swapped your body with that of one of the gang members. He got hit pretty badly during the exchange, but his situation wasn't as dire as yours." There was a pause that for Robbie felt like an eternity.

"He died in your body just a moment ago." Chief lingered on that last sentence for a moment. "It was the only way to save you."

The words echoed in Robbie's mind, sending a chill down his spine. He had been transformed into a stranger, thrust into a world he didn't belong to, all against his will.

"And who said I wanted this? To look like a fucking thug from across the border? What am I supposed to tell my wife? My kids??" As Robbie's voice rose, the beeping from the monitors followed suit.

"Please try to keep calm. Your heart rate's spiking." A nurse tried to get the cop to settle down.

"Vete a la mierda pinche cabrónes!"

The sudden outburst caused the entire room to fill with silence, the only noise being the increasingly frequent beeps coming from the machines. Robbie hadn't even realized he cursed out everyone in the room in fluent Spanish, a language he was barely familiar in.

"Give us the room." The chief ordered the doctors and nurses working on Robbie to leave, which they all promptly did. Shutting the door behind them, he approached Robbie, standing right next to his bed.

"I understand that you're upset, son." Chief Ramirez spoke up, breaking the silence. His voice ditching his usually authoritative tone, this time adopting a tinge of empathy. "But we have a plan for you. That's if you want it of course."

Robbie stared at his boss with a vindictive expression. What could he do to make this situation better? What could the Chief even remotely offer? Curiosity eventually got the better of him. "What is it?"

Chief Ramirez took out a manilla folder and tossed in on Robbie's lap. Opening it up, Robbie would find a picture of the man whose body he now possessed. Beneath it would be documents listing the man's demographics, arrest records, even unpaid parking tickets. Any information the government would have about this man's life would be found in that folder.

"Rogelio Fuentes." Robbie read the man's name out loud with a quiver in his voice.

"You're a great detective Robbie. One of the best the department's ever seen. Now with you in that body, we have a direct line to the underbelly of the crime ring that's devastating this city. We have the opportunity to take it down from within." The chief explained.

"Y-You want me to pretend to be this guy?" Robbie gawked in disbelief. "Play undercover cop?!"

"That's exactly what I'm asking. Assume this man's life, live as Rogelio Fuentes and coordinate with us as we dismantle this gang from the inside."

"But my wife and my kids..?"

"As far as they're concerned, you'll be dead. Died bravely fighting for his city. I know it's a tough pill to swallow, but I also know how important serving and protecting the community is to you. Your unwavering dedication to the force is what drew me to you. It's what made me fight hard to get those doctors to save your life. Because we can't let someone like that go to waste."

Robbie stared ahead, ignoring Chief Martinez as he deeply pondered the predicament he found himself in. While he loved his job, was he willing to throw his previous life away for such a big task?

"And like I said before, this was an experimental procedure using technology from the Feds. Complete this mission and impress them enough, maybe they'd let us use it again to get you a more suitable body in the future."

The room filled with silence once more. Robbie could only think about what he'd be leaving behind. His family, his friends, his old life. But if he said no to Chief Martinez, would he even be able to return to his wife and kids as he is? Would they accept his story? Believe him when he were to tell them who he is?

"I'll do it." Robbie looked at the chief with determination. "Nomás digame lo qué tengo que hacer."

Robbie felt a surge of valor coursing through his veins. He knew the risks involved—the dangers of taking on and dismantling a powerful cartel from the inside. But Robbie was never one to back down from a challenge. He was determined to do whatever it took to rid the streets of drugs and violence, to make his city a safer place for its citizens, but most importantly his family who'd have to carry on without him. Although a little hope remained that after all was said and done, the Chief would even be able to carry out his end of the deal and he'd soon be able to reunite with his family.

Holiday Spirit

The distorted echoes of holiday music bounced off the bare hallway walls of a run down mall. Within one of its dimly lit back rooms a man in Santa attire leaned against the wall, scrolling through his phone with a joint pressed between his lips. Suddenly, the door to the room swung open and through it walked in a man with a name tag inscribed with the words: Supervisor.

“Yo Joel, you got five more minutes and then I need your ass back in that chair.” 

“Fucking hell Alan, I literally just went on my break.”

“Hey, you know the deal. You get a ten minute break every two hours. The line’s starting to wrap around the food court and it’s only getting longer. And the longer people have to wait, the more irritable they are when they finally get to you.”

“Fuck off, I’m taking my break.

“Listen, the only reason you still got a job here is because no one else is desperate enough to play mall Santa and listen to snot-nosed children for hours on straight. Be grateful I haven’t fired you on the spot for that piss poor attitude. So if you wanna get paid, I expect you back out there in.. three minutes now.”

Alan exits the room prompting Joel to flip him off behind his back but he immediately peeks his head back in, noticing the extended middle finger in his face but remaining unfazed by it.

“And spray yourself with some Febreeze or some shit before you head out. You smell like a fucking skunk.”

Alan finally leaves as Joel takes one last hit from his joint before putting it away for later. Alan’s words echoed in his head, drowning out the cheery, festive music that had been looping over the intercoms for days on end. As much as Joel hated his boss, hated his job, and would literally rather be doing anything else, he was indeed desperate for the cash so he couldn’t afford to be fired.

Looking at his reflection in one of the mirrors hanging on the walls of the break room, Joel flexed and posed, showcasing his muscled frame before having to cover it all in baggy clothing.

Joel hated wearing the full Santa suit. To start off, it was three sizes too big. Joel was fit and lean, so the bagginess of the suit did him absolutely no favors. It was also the only suit his workplace had so he was forced to share it with the other guys to worked there, most of which were big, burly, and tended to sweat a lot. The thing he probably hated most was the fake white beard that covered almost half his face and itched like hell. It was almost impossible to tell it was Joel under there which severely hampered his ability to hit on the single moms.

Putting aside all those issues, Joel put on the entire ensemble. As he headed out, he grabbed the can of peppermint-scented air freshener and sprayed himself from head to toe in a feeble attempt to cover up the weed smell.

Walking out of the back rooms and into the heavily decorated walkways of the mall, Joel feigned his jolly demeanor as he approached the aptly named Santa’s Workshop. He noticed the line of people waiting to see Santa. Parents with their kids stared Joel down as he made his way to his chair.

“Took him long enough.”

“Where’s fat and jolly Santa?”

“We waited all this time for that?”

Joel could hear some of the comments made by the adults and immediately knew he was in for a long night. Sitting down, he signaled to one of his “elf” workers start letting people in.

“Let’s get this shit over with.”

Roughly an hour and a half passed and the line of people seemed no shorter than when he started. Not surprising since Christmas was only a few days away but Joel was beginning to feel indignant at the whole situation. More than he already was anyways.

What didn’t help were the countless rowdy kids that would come his way, followed by their inattentive or even sometimes asshole parents. Through it all, however, Joel tried to focus on what really mattered, the check he’d be getting at the end.

“Okay Santa, here’s six-year old Nathan.”

One of the workers brought in the next kid and situated him on Joel’s lap. Before Joel even got a word out he noticed that the boy was already on the verge of a crying fit.

“Mooooommmyy!”

The boy turned away from Joel with tears running down his face, holding his arms out for his mother who was a short distance away with her phone, prepping to take a photo.

“Looks like he wants to go with you.”

“He’ll calm down. I just need to find the best angle so I can get as much of the tree in the picture as possible. Entertain him for me, will you?”

Joel made a half-assed attempt at calming the kid which only made the crying turn into blood-curdling screams. The boy squirmed and fussed on Joel’s lap, trying to get away. At one point he even kicked Joel in the groin. Meanwhile his mom stayed completely engrossed on her phone, ignoring the situation that was unfolding in front of her. Having had enough, Joel eventually reached his breaking point.

“Lady, come get your kid. I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

“Excuse me? I paid for my time with Santa just like everybody else.”

“Does it look like I give a fuck?”

The mother immediately ran to grab her child, setting Joel free from his figurative hell. He stood up, yanking the fake white beard off his face, and started walking away.

“I’m telling your manager!”

“Go ahead. See if I care!”

Joel walked past the line of people again where through their whispers could hear them talking about what had happened. Some even had their phones out, seemingly having captured the whole thing on camera.

“Where the hell is he going?”

“Are they going to bring someone else?”

“Where’s his holiday spirit?”

It wasn’t long until Joel found himself back in the break room. He walked in circles around the tables and chairs, still feeling the high of what he just did. He acted out what every frustrated employee in a dead end job had always dreamt of doing. Feeling on top of the world he took out the blunt he saved from earlier and lit it again, unafraid of facing the consequences since he had basically just quit.

As Joel finished up and was ready to leave this place once and for all, he noticed how hazy the room had gotten. Joel had smoked in there numerous times in the past and it never got that bad. Taking a deep whiff, the smoke didn’t have that weed odor. In fact, there seemed to be a myriad of recognizable scents. Gingerbread, pumpkin spice, peppermint. Whatever smells one would associate with the holiday season would soon fill the entirety of the room. Looking around, Joel would discover that smoke was being pumped in via one of the air vents in the ceiling.

“What the hell?”

Joel tried to leave but the door wouldn’t budge, almost as if it had been locked from the outside. He banged on it repeatedly and screamed for someone to let him out, not knowing that with each call for help he’d inhale more and more of the smoke. Within a minute or two, the lightheadedness was beginning to set in. 

As Joel slammed his firsts into the door, he’d notice something peculiar happening to his body. A gut was beginning to form. The abs he worked hard to get were slowly covered in a layer of fat. In a short amount of time he was left with a round little belly that shook like a bowl full of jelly. This extended to his pecs as they softened to form a nice pair of moobs. His legs, arms, and face would eventually follow, turning Joel into a plump and hefty man.

Joel’s face would then begin to morph. His tan faded away, revealing much fairer skin but with rosy cheeks and a cherry red nose. His angled and sharp face became broader, with his beard growing out in the process. And finally his dark brown hair receded into his head, but every other inch of hair on his body turned white as snow with his newly elongated beard following suit. This coincided with Joel appearing to age several years as wrinkles appeared on his face and several other parts of his body. The man in his early thirties soon looked like he could be well over fifty.

The changes finally stopped, leaving Joel standing in the middle of the room with a glazed look on his new face. He stood motionless, breathing heavy, when suddenly the holiday music playing on the intercoms was interrupted by an announcement. 

“We need Santa back to Santa’s Workshop. Repeat. Santa back to Santa’s Workshop.”

That was Alan’s voice making the announcement and it was enough to snap Joel out of whatever trance he was in. He was not the same Joel as before, however. There was a twinkle in his eyes that wasn’t there before. A softness in his demeanor as well. He looked around the room and then at his reflexion in the mirror.

“Oh shoot. I might have overdone it with the milk and cookies.”

Joel laughed as he clenched his belly, acting as if nothing was the matter.  

“No time to dawdle Joel. Can’t keep the children waiting.”

Joel checked himself out in the mirror one more time. He was filling out his Santa outfit perfectly. Once he was set, he went back out into the mall walkways. Moving in a jovial manner, he waved at every child that crossed his path. The jolly man finally arrived at his workshop, ready to listen to all of the children’s Christmas wishes.

Olympic Dreams

A loud cacophony of cheers and applause rattled the inside of the Indianapolis Aquatics Center. A group of Olympic hopefuls situated themselves in their positions on the starting blocks, ready to compete in the 100M Freestyle and book their tickets to Paris later that summer. The venue turned eerily quiet as the swimmers waited for the starter’s command. A loud buzz and they were off.

Swimming vigorously along lane 7 was Chase Kovacs. Chase had dreamed of going to the Olympics since he first watched Dutch swimmer Pieter Van Den Hoogenband win gold at Sydney 2000. That moment kickstarted years worth of training, diligence, and determination to one day be able to call himself an Olympian. That dream however always seemed out of reach. Whether it be due to injury or not performing well on the day, Chase would just miss out on making the team. Now 28 years old, Chase could feel time fleeting away. As hard as he trained, he knew he couldn’t keep performing at this level forever. It was Paris or bust.

Not even a minute after the starting buzzer went off the event was already over. The men who had just swam their heart out looked at the digital scoreboard that held their fate with baited breath. 

Chase’s heart sank as he saw the results. His personal best at the trials, but that didn’t seem to matter as his name appeared further down in the rankings than he would have liked. He wasn’t out yet, but he remained on the bubble and had to agonizingly wait to see how his time would hold up after all his competitors had raced.

A few hours and hundreds of laps across the pool later Chase would finally learn if he could start packing his bags or not. And he could, but not for the reason he would have liked. He was named an alternate. That’s what Chase was left with at the end of the day. Not officially on the team but forced to remain on standby in case of injury or someone was forced to withdraw. A devastating blow, but Chase tried to keep hope alive.

Throughout the entire month leading up to the games, Chase continued his training. He did early morning practice sessions in the pool, aerobic exercises, and strength and conditioning workouts. One would think Chase had made the team considering how dedicated he remained to his training, but Chase wanted to be ready on the slim chance he got the call. But the closer the Olympics came, the less likely he felt like that opportunity would come.

Finally in Paris, Chase arrived with the rest of Team USA. He’d partake in practices and hang out with his friends and fellow teammates, but due to his status as an alternate would be excluded from several things as well. He could not stay at the Olympic Village and most importantly could not join the rest of Team USA during the Parade of Nations at the Opening Ceremony.

As hundreds of athletes from the participating countries rode the boats sailing down the Seine, Chase could only sit back and watch the Opening Ceremony from the TV in his hotel room. He stirred in his seat as he waited for Team USA to pass through. Although he was told since the beginning that his chances at actually competing would be slim to none, he was only now growing to accept the reality that his dream would not come true. All his years of dedication to this singular goal would be for naught. And it’s not like he was asking for a lot. He wasn’t aiming for a medal, to stand atop of the podium. He just wanted a chance.

Trying to keep the negative thoughts away, Chase decided to sneak away from his hotel and swim a few laps around the pool to clear his thoughts. 

As Chase arrived, he’d find the aquatics center empty with no one in sight. He figured everyone was either taking part in the Opening Ceremony or getting rested before the first day of the swimming events commenced, so he had the whole place to himself. Chase swam several laps, and for a moment felt like all his troubles went away. 

Getting everything he needed from that swim, Chase headed to the locker rooms for a quick shower. With a towel around his waist, he looked at himself in a mirror and smiled. He had finally accepted that it maybe just wasn’t mean to be. Perhaps life had a different plan for him. And it certainly did.

As Chase stood in front of the mirror, a strange feeling overwhelmed him. He felt off but in a way he couldn’t describe. He had no idea what was going on, that is until he looked at his reflection. His body, which he took great care to keep in peak condition, began undergoing changes. 

Large portions of his body started accumulating mass, a mixture of both muscle and fat. His defined pecs grew saggy and soft. His visible abs and obliques now hidden by a protruding stomach. While his shoulders remained broad, his wingspan shortened in size as his long and lean arms changed into short and muscular ones. His long legs also shortened causing Chase to lose a few inches in height. But what he lost in height he gained in weight as his thighs and ass became the biggest recipients of his newly gained mass. Finally dark, thick hairs sprouted all over his previously shaved body. No inch of skin was spared as a carpet of fur covered his chest, stomach, arms and legs. The hair spread upwards as a well-trimmed beard formed on his previously clean shaven face. The angular features of his face also contorted into softer, rounder ones. A broader nose, more furrowed brow, and a different hairstyle added the finishing touches to Chase’s miraculous transformation.

Chase looked at his new self in awe. His swimmer’s body transformed into a bulkier, heftier one. One meant to do something else. Unable to completely process what just took place, he explored his new body, flexing his enormous biceps almost out of instinct. His confusion as to why this happened kept him from freaking out. But his questions soon got answered as memories started implanting themselves in his head.

While his old ones weren’t necessarily replaced, these new memories took centerstage in his psyche. His passion to join the Olympics still burned as bright as ever, but not as a swimmer. Fate took him on another journey instead as his body was built for a different sport. One that required power over speed. This version of Chase aimed to conquer the world in the sport of shot put.

Unlike the swimmer who proved unsuccessful in his attempts, this new Chase managed to find his calling in this sport. With multiple world championships under his belt, qualifying for this track and field event proved to be a rather easy feat. But for Chase, making it to the Olympics wasn’t the primary goal. No longer did he have to barely scrape by, but he was ready to thrive. He had his eyes set for gold, something which seemed very much possible with this new and improved body.

Once these memories settled inside Chase’s head, he finally got a grasp of the situation he faced. He was presented with the possibility of not only making his childhood dream come true, but exceeding that dream and reaching heights he never thought possible. He'd have to leave his old life behind, but to Chase this was more than worth it.

Ready to embrace this new version of him, Chase looked at the time. If he rushed, he might even make it in time to join his fellow Olympians for the Opening Ceremony.